


The mind, the body, the soul

by LunarCallisto



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Continuation of Chapter 90, Gen, Just a slight altered ending, Major Manga Spoilers, Shiganshina Trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9671204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarCallisto/pseuds/LunarCallisto
Summary: “Hey, Look at this Eren. On the other side of the wall is-""The ocean, and on the other side of the ocean, is freedom. That's what I always believed..."





	

_“Those enemies on the other side of here,” He pointed out to the vast sea, “If we kill them all, does that mean...”_

_“We’ll finally be free?”_

His words had shocked her to the point of considering the cruel notion; but that was only because it was Eren who had said them. After five years, since the fall of Wall Maria, Armin’s dream of seeing the ocean had become a reality, the remaining titans left in Wall Maria were slain within a year, and the Queen had since vanquished the secrecy that the first king had kept hidden for so long—civilization in the walls soon knew of the history forging, the brain washing, the eradication of the East Sea Clan, and the Ackermans’ who were immune to the memory wipe; nearly everything that was safe to announce to the public without a mass hysteria outbreak.

Not many took it so well—though that was understandable. It _was_ a lot to take in. It had been for Mikasa as well. She was just starting to believe beyond the world she so usually saw—when her feet touched the soft sand at the edge of Wall Maria, when she plunged her foot into the cool waters, and breathed in the salty air, the breeze whipping her ink black hair like spider silk in the wind.

She thought, for the first, and perhaps last time, there was hope for them. For her, and Armin, and Eren. Everyone else too—Captain Levi, Commander Hange, Connie, Sasha, and Jean. She felt it like the warm sunlight on her skin— Calm, and peaceful. Invigorating, like she was being born again—and it had felt _so good._  Washing the blood off her hands—After fighting for so long, killing for so long, and holding back her fears, guilt and failure of past events. This was entirely new, this was what she hoped true freedom would be like. Armin’s bright flashing smile, and their friends splashing water at each other, while their Commander collected strange rocks on the shoreline.

She wished moments like these would last forever—but Mikasa had common sense, and _wishes_? They never come true, at least for her they did not. Still, the ache in her chest was only because she wanted the best for them all—and eventually a place to call their home.

Mikasa was a wallflower—an observer, she hadn’t seen anything in rose tinted glasses since she was little girl. Since she had lost her innocence.

She leaned back on her forearms, her toes just out of reach from the low tide, the white frothy waves didn’t startle her so much anymore. The intricate seashells Armin placed on her lap were beautifully vibrant, and exotic—and Mikasa believed than, she was one more step away from regaining the humanity this world stole from her.

“Look at this one!” Armin pushed another bumpy shell into her opened palms, and she turned it over, coals eyes scanning every crevice. After Eren’s declaration, things had gone silent. Awkward with thick tension, nobody knew want to say. What could they say? They did not know for sure if Eren was right, or if he was stoking a flame that had long since gone out from his soul. It was Eren, after all. Mikasa knew Eren. She knew him more so than she knew herself.

Armin had been the one to deviate the topic away to other things—factual things. Like if they were to cross the ocean to the other side, they would need ships. Not boats, actual ships. They would need a weeks’ worth of supplies, they would need a dozen or more restocks of gas, horses, and many more men to recruit. At their status, so far, they were just not prepared. Not only that, they did not know what awaited them on the other side.

But that didn’t stop Eren from pondering the fate of the Marley. If only he were a bit more open with her, as he seemed to be with Armin. She glanced to the blond at her side, currently attempting to make a fish net out of seaweed—Armin chuckled when she asked him how many fish were in the ocean.

“It’s boundless, Mikasa.” He said, twisting one end of long, thin seaweed, “There’s so many different species, I can’t wait to see them all.” Armin weaved the seaweed in hands expertly, like he’s done it before—strange, though. Seaweed did not exist within the walls. “I’m going to write a story,” Armin turned to her, an awestruck twinkle in his eyes that reflected the ocean. “Of our journey, so far. I’m going to write every single event that has happened, even my death—”

The sift of sand, and a soft wet plop at Mikasa’s right side interrupted Armin—they both turned to gawk at their taciturn friend who busied himself with wringing water out of his shirt. Eren was completely drenched from head to toe, his mid-length hair was a tangled mess, dripping heavily over his eyes, and his light shirt had soaked up so much water, it stuck to him like a second skin. Mikasa could see the hard lines of his abdominal muscles as he leaned further back—She promptly averted her gaze, burying her nose into her scarf as her cheeks tinged a pale pink.

Armin laughed, “Went for a swim, huh?”

“More like practically drowned.” Eren grunted, forking his fingers through his wet clumpy locks. Armin made a tutting noise, “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

He turned back to his task of weaving together a fishing net—Eren tilted his head curiously pass Mikasa to observe him. “Uh, Armin? When did you learn how to do that?”

Armin stopped his ministrations, and Mikasa looked at him questionably. “Huh,” he raised his head slowly, the sunset’s fiery rays bounced off his wondering eyes. “I don’t remember, actually,” He peered down at the mass of woven seaweed, “I’m not really sure what I’m doing.”  

Eren and Mikasa shared a look—she could practically see the gears in Eren’s head spinning through his wide silver eyes. Then a flash of cognitive shock, a brief realization, a puzzle piece falling into place. Mikasa tried to placate him from heckling Armin by placing her hand over his. He looked down, only momentarily, but his attention was back at Armin within the same second.

“Have you seen anything yet, Armin?” He asked, Armin looked away sheepishly. “You have, haven’t you? You saw _his_ memories.” Eren pressed further, “Did he know anything about the Marley? Where are they hidden? Where is Zeke—“

 _“I don’t know.”_ Armin huffed, he threw the seaweed fish net into the rising tide, watched as it was carried off into the current. “I don’t understand—most of it is in pieces. Some of it, I could _hardly_ grasp—I’m trying, though. The only way I could make sense of Bertolt’s memories, is if I empathize with him.”  

Mikasa squeezed Eren’s hand, and he dropped his gaze. Wet tendrils of dark hair stuck to his cheek, and she fought the persisting urge to brush them behind his ear. Armin tossed a sea shell into the ocean. Behind them, a campfire bellowed smoke high into the dusky skies. Commander Hange listed their stock, Captain Levi catered to the horses, and the rest of their team sat huddled around the camp fire—laughing, and roasting salted fish.

Armin got to his feet, dusting off his soiled white pants. His vibrant blue eyes focused solely on the ocean—what had once only been a dream of his. Mikasa saw determination on his soft face. The breeze danced between the three of them—causing their hair to go wild. Mikasa put a hand to her head to avoid being blinded by the specs of sand, but the other hand still rooted Eren next to her. His warmth radiated onto her in waves like the sea.

“I saw glimpses of them as children.” Armin spoke just above a whisper, Eren’s head shot up. “I saw—I don’t know…I saw people, a man with dark hair, a woman…”

“His parents?” Eren mused. Armin shook his head, but then shrugged. “Maybe. I also saw Reiner, and Annie, and another, a boy—“

“Marcel?”

Armin pressed his lips in a line, brows furrowing. “Marcel?” He cocked his head, blond tendrils flying in all directions, “Perhaps…I think, I may be able to unlock more of Bertolt’s memories.” Armin turned to them. “But…we’re going to _need_ Annie.”

Mikasa felt a chill like ice being poured down her back. She disliked anything that had to involve that girl. Eren, however, was exuberant. “ _How?_ ” He exclaimed. “She’s been in that crystal for a year, Armin, we’ve tried all we can. Even the lightning spears couldn’t make a scratch.”

Armin shook his head again, arms crossed. Concentration evident on his face. His hair was pushed back from the strong winds. Mikasa thought, then, he looked reminiscent of their late previous Commander.  “We just haven’t been thinking outside the box.” He said, and looked off into the distance.

Eren was silent, pondering, before he jumped to a stand, skidding sand all around them—without hesitating, he turned and pulled Mikasa up with him, her eyes widened when she saw him flash a smile. Though it wasn’t his easygoing smiles she rarely ever saw anymore—this was the smile of the long-lost dare devil boy. It made the beat of her heart skip nonetheless. Even with the haggard lines under his eyes, he still carried that passion with him everywhere he went. It was just quieter now.

“You’ve got a plan?” Eren followed Armin’s gaze towards the vast sea

Armin smiled ruefully, “I never have plans. But I’ve got gambles, and they almost always work.”  


End file.
